


Love Down Soft and Sweet

by angrythingstarlight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27536005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrythingstarlight/pseuds/angrythingstarlight
Summary: Steve left Bucky. He left you too. Hearts aren’t supposed to break like this and it's time you stopped the bleeding. You would never leave Bucky and now you’ll convince him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103





	Love Down Soft and Sweet

It was the cold that woke you. 

Being surrounded by your super soldier every night, you got used to overwhelming body heat, a human furnace, soft and firm all at once, his wandering hands that seemed to find you no matter where you rolled, eager to tuck you back into him. Lips that never spent more than a few moments away from your skin. You always woke up in a tangle of limbs and lips, his body heat melting into you. 

That heat. 

You needed it to sleep now, which is why you could never fully rest when he was away on a mission. No matter how many blankets and pillows you used when he was gone, you always felt cold without him. As if your body knew it needed, no craved, him touching you, his large arm wrapped around your waist, those lips on your neck, shoulder. That one time he somehow twisted around, and those sinful lips of his were attached to your ankle. 

But tonight was different.

He was home, and you were cold. 

It broke through the depths of your sleep. You rolled over on the California king bed, stretching your arms out. Only cold, rumpled sheets met your hand. Opening your eyes, blinking as you adjusted to the soft darkness coating the room. The red glare from the small alarm clock on the nightstand tells you it’s just past three in the morning. 

Pushing yourself up in the bed, you listen for any sounds in your home. You softly call out his name, knowing that he could hear you from any part of the house. When you don’t hear him respond, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, shivering when your feet touch the hardwood floors, his shirt clinging to you. You tug the end of his soft black Henley, letting it fall into place over your body. 

Squinting, you see the bedroom door cracked open. You pad your way to the hallway, a faint glow coming from downstairs. Following the light, you make your way into the kitchen. 

And you find your Bucky, standing in front of the sink, staring out the window. A faint autumn breeze flowing through the lace curtains. To anyone else, he would seem lost in thought, but you know better, he’s been lost ever since the ‘incident’. 

His brown locks messy from sleep hanging around his bare slumped shoulders, his black sweatpants slung low over his hips. Slivers of moonlight glinting off his vibranium arm. Hands clenched around the rim of the sink. You can practically see the despair etched into his skin, its been weighing him down for longer than you liked. 

You step to him, softly, hesitantly until you can feel the heat from his body. Leaning your head on his broad back, you breathe out his name, wrapping your arms around him. The faint hint of his cologne lingering on his skin as you rub your face over him.

Bucky looks over his shoulder, his hand smoothing over your arms, “Hey doll, did I wake you?”. 

You frown into his back, “Kinda, I missed you”. Your face moves with his back when he sighs, deep and heavy. You wait, rubbing your hands up and down and his stomach, tracing patterns on his abs, waiting until he speaks again. 

“He left me,”. 

And there it is.   
Weeks of tiptoeing around the ‘incident’. 

Weeks of “I’m fine, yeah I’m sure” 

Bucky clears his throat, “He left us”.

The words whispered quietly, brokenly the man stronger than most. A fractured sound caught in his chest. You can feel the pain radiating from him, it is your pain too. It hurts you, like a knife twisting in your gut. You hold him tighter, feeling his body shudder as he tries to hold it in. 

Letting go, you step back.

Its almost poetic.

You two in the darkness, in this room.

The last time you had been together in this kitchen, it had the morning Steve left; the sun shining in from the window, some oldies station playing in the background barely heard over the laughter.

Bucky in his just his cargo pants, flinching as the grease pops from the pan, you tease him about being taken out by breakfast foods while Steve sneaks from your plate whenever you turn your head. 

The round kitchen table always seemed so small, the three of you crowded around it. You had no choice but to sit on someone’s lap, you told them, ignoring their matching smirks. Only to have your own cocky smirk when they fought over who’s lap it was. You ended up in Bucky’s lap, your feet in Steves, feeding Bucky as Steve fed you. 

Steve had fallen silent when you and Bucky started making Christmas plans. It would be Bucky’s first Christmas and you wanted it to be special. Steve never said as word as you chattered, Bucky getting more excited by the minute. 

Steve never looked up at either of you. 

Neither of you had noticed then. 

Shaking your head, the darkness seeps back in as the memory fades. You wonder if Bucky is thinking about that morning, too. You see him wipe his face in the window's reflection and you know he is. 

You know this kitchen, this house like the back of your hand. Nine steps back and you bump into the table, putting your hands back on the tablecloth, you hop up on it. “Come here, James”. 

He turns around, even in the shadows, his blue eyes glisten. Another twist of that knife when he tries to smile, his lips falling as quickly as his eyes. “Jam-Bucky come here, baby”. 

He walks to you, his feet silent on the tiled floor. A stillness settles in the room as he steps between your thighs, his hands on your hips. 

“He didn’t come back for me”. It breaks your heart the way he looks at his arm, you know what he means.

He left him there, with them. 

He went back but not for him.

He made a choice and Bucky wasn’t it. You’ll never understand why, neither of you will. 

The words hang in the air, you can almost see them suffocating him, pushing him down into the abyss. You won’t let that happen again, not while you’re here. You have no wise words that can explain away what he did. 

The days before Steve left plays in your mind, he had been acting differently, looking back you recognize the quiet desperation, the guilt in his acts, the gifts he bought for “no reason”, the way he took you apart at night, his hands moving over and over your body as if he were memorizing you, which in a way he was.

At the time, you thought it sweet that the way he kept drawing you and Bucky together. When you ripped up the pictures after he left, Bucky took the pieces from your shaking hands and burned them. Watching the carefully stenciled strokes turn to ash didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. When Bucky ripped Steve’s clothes out of the closet, you bagged them and gave them to an understanding Sam the next day. 

The sheets you shared were the next to go, tossed out in the trash, you slept on the bare mattress the first night, Bucky’s arm pulling you into his chest, his head on your neck, the cool trickle of his tears ran down your skin until the soft light of dawn broke through the window. 

Neither of you talked about it after that night, pretending as if everything was alright the next morning. As if you were both the same. Both okay without him. Moving quietly around each other. 

What was that saying, time heals all wounds? 

Time doesn’t heal a broken heart, but you can. 

You will. 

Lifting up his chin, you catch his eyes. “You have me”. You may not have the words for what Steve did, but you do have this.

He blinks, a bit of the pain receding as he looks at you. Tracing the prickly shadow of a beard on his cheeks, you pull his face down. His eyes closing when your lips brush against his, once, twice before slotting your mouth over his. Your tongue teasing the tip of his, his grip tightening on your hips. You stay like that, just feeling his soft lips on yours, the minty hint of toothpaste on his tongue, welcoming the familiar taste of him. 

When you break away, he whines softly, you can never get over that fact that he does that whenever you stop kissing him. You laugh, a small sound that reaches his ears, and you can see it again, more of the sorrow slipping away. He smiles now, more of a quirk of his swollen lips, not quite his usual grin, but enough. 

For now, its enough. 

Taking his hand, you trace the gold laced into the black vibranium, rubbing your cheek over it, pressing a kiss into his palm. 

“You have me, James” You repeat firmly, looking into his deep blue eyes as you kiss each icy finger, you repeat the words, the kisses until you see him start to believe you. 

You will always have me” Taking his hand, warm now like the rest of him, you put it under your shirt, right across your heart. “Feel that, feel me”. 

“I’m yours, James,” 

He drops his forehead on yours, his breathing labored, chest heaving when you intertwine your fingers. His mouth opens and closes, you know what he wants to ask. The fact that he fears your answer angers you, not at him but at Steve. Your Bucky wasn’t confident about many things, but he knew you both loved him. Steve shattered that, but you could pick up the little pieces and put them back. 

“Would you leave me?” You ask the question that he can’t. 

His no is spoken so swiftly, viciously, you nearly laugh again. The thought of losing you is incomprehensible to him, and you feel the same. 

When you tell him you won’t leave him with his hand on your heart, the slow steady beat thumping through his skin, his breathing slows. For the first time since he left, the ache eases. 

“We’ll be okay without him”, Bucky murmurs, his deep gravelly voice resonating through you, “I love you”. The words confident and sure. He cups your face with one hand, his other slipping around your breast. His lips on your, his thumb swiping over your nipple, teasing it to a stiff point. 

You let go of him, leaning back on your elbows, your legs going around his hips. Biting your bottom lip, you glance up at him. His pink lips swollen, a flush highlighting his cheeks under his stubble, his eyes penetrating you. “Show me” 

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he studies you. Neither of you move, until he suddenly reaches out, his hands ripping that henley in two. Your startled shriek melding into giggles as you shrug the ruined shirt off. When he moves to your panties, you shake your head, “You better not, these are my favorite”, you warn, brow cocked. 

He scowls at you, a hint of a smile twists his lips when you glare back. HIs hands sweep under your ass, thumbs hooking into the band. He pulls it down over your legs, stepping back to take them off. Tilting his head, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he loudly sniffs them, vulgarly moaning before throwing them over his shoulder. “James Buchan-” 

You’re cut off when he steps back between your legs, pulling you down over the edge of the table. “Let me show you how much I love you” he pleads, looking down, a delicate mix of devotion, lust and desire in his eyes. 

Leaning on your elbows, your throat constricts at the sight of the bulge straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. A sharp tug and the pants drop to his feet, his cock springing loose. No matter how many times you have him, you can never get used to how utterly big he is. 

When your eyes flick er back up, you hold back a grin. There it is, that cocky little smirk he gets whenever you get flustered around him. “Shut up and love me” you command. 

Your body welcomes him, gasping as he slides his throbbing cock through your silky folds, slowly pushing into your slick core until he bottoms out.His hands cupping your breasts, bending down his lips close over your nipple, sweeping his tongue over it until you’re arching off the table. 

He moves up your body, pushing you back down, his lips trailing up your chest, feeling your whimpers vibrate on his lips. Rubbing his smooth back, you lock your legs around his waist pressing your feet into ass, willing him to move. “Please Bucky, don’t tease me”. 

You don’t need him to be slow and gentle right now, you just need him. All of him. In you, filling you, claiming you as his. 

He needs you too. The warmth of your body around him, the softness he didn’t think existed until he had you. The strength of you, able to take all of him every time, he craves all of you, wanting to give you every piece of him. 

He looks down at you, rasping out, “Whatever you want, doll”.

Placing his arms on either side of your head, he begins a furious pace that leaves you gasping, clutching him as he pounds into you. You feel every inch and vein of his thick cock stretching you, sending waves of pleasure through you. The small table screeching under the weight of his powerful thrusts. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours drowning out the memories of before.

His eyes scrunched shut, mouth open as he groans your name. He falls onto you, his sweaty chest on yours, his heavy weight comforting as he brings you closer to the edge. Each stroke feels so damn good, your body burning from the hot waves surging through you. It’s almost too much when he bites down on your shoulder, the pain melding into the pleasure. 

Your needy gasps begging him for more and he gives it to you, until you keen, breaking apart under him, your nails digging into his back as you clench down around him. Your body tensing as the coil shatters. 

The sound of his name leaving your lips as you come apart enough to trigger his own orgasm, his smooth thrusts erratic as he spills in you, your walls milking him until he softens. Small tendrils of pleasure spiraling through you as he pulls out. 

His lips press over the mark he left on your shoulder, his unspoken apology. Not that you need it. You gladly wear his marks, besides you left your own on his back. Your fingertips tracing over the raised scratches. 

He shifts up, leaning on his forearms, looking down at you. “I love you”. 

You laugh, pulling him back down, “You better Mr. Barnes, I know a guy with a metal arm that would kick your ass if you didn’t’”. 

He tilts his head, a brief flare of jealousy in his eyes before he realizes what you mean. You laugh again at his sheepish expression. Shaking his head, he picks you up from the table. 

Pushing back his damp locks, you press your forehead against his, legs moving around his waist. “I love you” 

And he smiles more like himself. Almost there, you think, placing your head on his shoulder, yawning as he carries you out of the kitchen. 

And as he carries you up the stairs to your room, memories of the three of you flash behind your closed eyes. It still hurts, perhaps that will never go away. The stain that Steve left behind may never fully fade, always lingering in your home, on you. 

But one thing you’re sure of is your love for Bucky and his for you. 

And that one day soon, you’ll both be more than okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at @angrythingstarlight on tumblr.


End file.
